


Day 6 – Haircut

by rainofgrenades



Series: Sheith Month 2017 [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, M/M, Oral Sex, POV Shiro (Voltron), Power Bottom Keith (Voltron), Sheith Month 2017, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 12:43:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11737305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainofgrenades/pseuds/rainofgrenades
Summary: My fingers run to his hair again, showing my weakness for it, for the feeling of having him in my hands.“Maybe I should cut them” is the sarcastic, satisfied sentence he smiles.





	Day 6 – Haircut

**Author's Note:**

> Rushing to catch up! Idk if this is off topic or not, tbh......  
> Fanart for this #SheithMonth fic: http://space-mull3t.tumblr.com/post/164099215434/inspired-by-rainofgrenades-s-fanfic

**K** eith wakes me up with slow kisses on my shoulder, his fingers running on my back.  
  
Keith wakes me up by calling my name, need draining from every syllable, and I don’t need to turn and see the lustful look on his face to know why he is waking me.  
I don’t need it because his digits find their way under the waistband covering my hips, pressing on my skin until they get right between my legs. I am not even ashamed anymore to let him find me already hard.  
  
I let him work for some time, enjoying the perfect, skilled way in which his hand knows where and how to touch me, feeling him pressing on my back. His teeth close on my neck with a moan, and my left hand promptly runs to his hair, keeping him in place while my back arches, ass cleverly rubbing on his obvious erection.  
  
“Babe” I whisper, gaining another nasty sound from his throat, and then I turn on my back, gently guiding his eager mouth on my chest.  
He wants to go down, he wants to replace his fingers with his lips, but I keep him steady by gripping on his dark locks, while he sucks and leaves markings on my collarbone.  
  
“Babe, kiss me” my order gets followed right after my throat stops vibrating, Keith swallowing my breath and almost eating my tongue, wet, deep kisses pushing my head into the pillow.  
  
He wants me so bad.  
  
My mech-hand runs on his naked back, his muscles almost pleading me to grab his skin, to lift him and take him right away; I let my fingers trace him until I reach the defined curve of his butt, and there I close them, obtaining a gasp from the lips hovering on mine.  
  
He likes it. I like when he likes it.  
  
Smiling, I stay under him, claiming kisses and closing my fingers around his ass until he bites, groaning and silently commanding me to let go of him.  
But I won’t let go of him.  
Hair still locked in my fist, I let him slide down, a dirty path of kisses decorating my chest and then my abs with a slow, killing pace.  
  
He likes to trace me out like that, my dick almost hurting with anticipation; he likes to see the way I shiver and pant, grinning at the show I put on when he isn’t too lost on his target.  
Tonight, he is.  
  
Keith almost sinks in the dark hair, inhaling my scent just before tracing all the length with his tongue and, as if this wasn’t enough to make me excited as fuck, swallowing it on the way down.  
Both of my hands run to his head, a deep, shaky breath is all I manage to do, and I grasp hard on those long, dark locks, kind of like it is the only way to keep a hold on myself.  
  
His mouth is warm. His mouth closes around me like it’s designed for me and my dick only.  
I can’t think too much, he doesn’t want me to think at all.  
He moves, up and down again, for what seems like an eternity, briefly stopping to breathe and work on my sensitive, already dripping tip.  
  
I would like to touch him too. To hear his _please_ and _more_ , but I am not allowed to order anything. I can only try to thrust up, hips blocked from his hands, my eyes shut to prevent the display from making me come too early.  
  
Keith is so good on me.  
  
The nasty, wet _pop_ that his mouth makes when leaving my dick is like hearing him call my name: I stare at Keith and Keith stares back, eyes glowing while he licks spit and precum from his lips, waiting like an animal on my pulsating erection.  
  
I want to make him feel like I feel.  
I want to feel just like he wants me to feel.  
  
One of my hands leaves his hair, moving to the drawer in which we store the alien-like lube, but I can’t command my arm to open it, to cover my burning dick in it.  
  
I can’t get up, I can’t ask, I can’t decide. Too much.  
  
The smooth movement with which he places his knees at my sides and stands already completely naked on me lets a “ _fuck”_ slip from my lungs.  
The next one has me sweating and biting my lips until they bleed: he steals the bottle from my useless grip and gets both his hands covered in fluid, proceeding in blindly pumping me behind his back with one, and sliding inside his own hole with the other.  
  
He is looking at me the whole time, cheeks red and mouth open, noises running free and making the weight between my legs _hurt_. He is doing it on purpose, to get the best from the man he wants to be fucked by, to push my damn dick to its already close limit.  
  
I know I can’t take it anymore, when he arches his back and rubs his slick entrance on my length. And he must know it too, because right after that he literally sits on me, taking it whole deep.  
  
I gasp, unable to even breathe properly, but Keith is merciless tonight. With every thrust he causes, impaling himself on me, he moans, no shame at all in the frantic, increasingly faster sounds he makes, and I can do nothing but follow him.  
  
My hands wander, but I have no control on myself anymore, and I almost cry out of pleasure when I come inside him, feeling hot cum trickle down to the sheets and then on me, when he does the same on my stomach.  
  
I don’t even mind the mess when he lands at my side, still keeping me buried deep inside him, eyes closed and tired breaths gradually slowing to a relaxed rhythm.  
  
My fingers run to his hair again, showing my weakness for it, for the feeling of having him in my hands.  
  
“Maybe I should cut them” is the sarcastic, satisfied sentence he smiles.  
  
I lovingly growl on his lips, kissing the thought away one more time, as I did countless nights by now.  
There is no chance in the whole universe I will let him get a haircut.


End file.
